Like all well-intentioned abstinence pledgers, we wanted to wait. Some call us ‘lazy,’ others call us ‘prudent,’ and our mothers call us ’special.’

But when it comes down to it, posting any kind of Best Of list after only 11 months seems rather hasty and foolhardy — everyone would’ve been sorry had Radiohead surprisingly released another kickass, unannounced album on December 31st, after their lists had emerged. So on the heels of our comprehensive and grandstanding 2007 Year in Review, we offer up another year-end superlative for you to devour on this feels-like-a-Monday Wednesday.

After the jump you’ll find my 10 favorite albums of the past year, and at this juncture I must stress the word ‘favorite,’ which is not necessarily interchangeable with ‘best’ (though I do adore myself so much that I may have deluded myself into thinking my personal faves were indeed the best — I also masturbate exclusively in front of a mirror to videos of myself, but that’s not important right now).

Some are obvious, but some will surprise you, and I hope my explanations make more sense to you than they did to me when I wrote ‘em with a wicked hangover. As always, we want to know what you think, so weigh in with your thoughts or suffer stiff backhands to the face, neck, breast, chest and head…

10 Favorite Albums of the Year

1. Radiohead — In Rainbows: I’m surprised by the amount of otherwise credible lists that had this anywhere but the top slot. Perhaps I didn’t have the lofty expectations of the fanboys, but I’m not sure how you can listen to this and not think “masterpiece.” It’s a multi-genre, brilliantly executed album that’s dripping in superior talent and songwriting skill from the first note to the last. Shit, you and your friends all probably have different favorite songs. My name is Ace, and I love Faust Arp the mostest. For now. And Reckoner’s badass. Listen:

(You can also watch the New Year’s Eve webcast here)

2. LCD Soundsystem — Sound of Silver: No album had me fidgeting and involuntarily twitching like a spaz on the New York City subway system quite like this gem. James Murphy & Co.’s punk-funky dance album deftly mixes the Talking Heads, Kraftwerk and about a half-dozen British electronic bands from a cheesy bygone era. The first six songs all blend into one killer party track, and the New York I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down closer is an off-the-charts power ballad. If Radiohead didn’t exist, this fucker would be #1 by a wide margin.

3. The Felice Brothers — Adventures of the Felice Brothers Vol I: The band recorded this album only recently, and technically it’s not even released (pretty sure you can only get it at shows or by snail mail). But the first time I heard it, I nearly wet my pants. Is that a compliment? I’m pretty sure. Well, I hope so. Starting with the immense Frankie’s Gun and lasting for 12 more songs, the three brothers-plus-one produce amazing music that merges the dusty memories of quality Americana with some of today’s best indie rock sounds. It harkens back to Dylan, to The Band, to old Springsteen, but it’s entirely unique.

4. Andrew Bird — Armchair Apocrypha: Andrew Bird commands respect with a number of weapons besides his violin, his guitars and his virtuoso whistling skills. On this latest album, Bird combines imaginative and intelligent storytelling, a wicked sense of humor and his fuck-all ability to make new music that pushes boundaries on each of his records. This guy’s a national treasure.

5. The Harlem Experiment — The Harlem Experiment: The melting pot that is New York hosted the melting pot that is this album, a fantastic set of arrangements that touch on soul, funk, jazz, pop and Latin themes. Featuring former Bowie guitarist Carlos Alomar, drummer Steve Berrios, Sex Mob trumpeter Steven Bernstein, Don Byron, Taj Mahal and many more artists, this is the ultimate rainy day music or soundtrack for a wicked hangover.

6. Arctic Monkeys — Favourite Worst Nightmare: Kinda strange, I know, I didn’t expect it either. But after they surprised me at Austin City Limits with clever pop songs with more punk than I expected, I bought their sophomore effort and played it like 10 straight times. If there’s a band out there writing catchier four-minute songs, I’m not sure I’ve heard ‘em. These Monkeys fill each song on the album with two scoops of sardonic, wise-beyond-years lyrics that I’ve been singing for months. See: Fluorescent Adolescent and Teddy Picker (below).

7. Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings — 100 Days, 100 Nights: The latest album from one of this here rag’s favorite performers constitutes a perfect study in soul. It’s much more restrained than her norm, a more mature album for sure. But it’s pure Sharon Jones, cut with the greatness of the Dap Kings, and we pray for Winehouse’s collapse so they can back up Ms. Jones all the time.

8. Wilco — Sky Blue Sky: Show of hands, how many people thought it was “meh” (as the kidz say) on first listen? I wasn’t let down, but I also wasn’t too impressed. Sure it’s hard to manage expectations — can’t every album be Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and A Ghost Is Born? — but this one just seemed too mellow and brooding. The more I listened, however, the more I wanted to hear these songs over and over. You Are My Face, Walken, and Impossible Germany took on gotta-listen-now status, and the rest of the album soon followed suit. It’s a shame Nels Cline and Jeff Tweedy found each other this late.

9. The National — Boxer: This album’s pretty damn good, but to be honest, it rates this high strictly for Fake Empire — that just may be the best new song I’ve heard in years. Like that track, the rest of the album is more methodical and pretty than it is balls-to-the-wall rock. But at the end of the day, the shit’s mighty captivating.

10. Arcade Fire — Neon Bible: Do you really need my two cents on the album that garnered more ink than anything save In Rainbows? You know what I’m gonna say, so just think it yourself.

Honorable mention that doesn’t quite qualify: Ween’s Friends EP — This five-song release gets the nod because of its striking resemblance to so many artists other than the actual band. And any band that releases a song like Friends that sounds like Cher and a song like Slow Down Boy that sounds like Spandau Ballet (which seems to be chronicling two dudes fooling around in the backseat of a car) gets an unironic thumbs up for me.

So what’s on your own personal list — which albums did it for you this year?